


The Dragon I have called

by LightofEvolution



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Accidentally Summoned Dragon, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-01
Updated: 2020-03-01
Packaged: 2021-02-19 13:42:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22911931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LightofEvolution/pseuds/LightofEvolution
Summary: Hermione calls for Charlie's help, she is desperate. Desperate because she wants to get rid of the Dragon she has accidentally called.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Charlie Weasley
Comments: 11
Kudos: 164
Collections: HeartofAspen: A Gift Collection





	The Dragon I have called

**Author's Note:**

  * For [HeartOfAspen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeartOfAspen/gifts).



> This story is part of a collection that has one purpose: all people partaking want to say thank you to the wonderful HeartofAspen who gave us a home for all our writing highs and lows. Thank you, lovely lady, for putting so much heart and hard work into The Write Stuff.  
> Beta love to niffizzle - you helped me so much to improve this and had so much patience with me <3  
> Also thank you to mcal and sarena - because they are who they are.  
> Soooo, HoA, I hope you like this!

####    
Hermione really didn’t do it on purpose. 

She had been working on some research about a sanctum from the Founders’ Age, an ancient place to hold certain carnal rituals in the Forbidden Forest. After all, the location had held a lot of magic even before the school had been built. 

But ancient texts weren’t always the most readable, and magic was sometimes unpredictable. 

Although, the results were particularly interesting this time: a giant creature was currently looking at her disgruntled, puffing smoke from its nostrils. 

There were only a few things Hermione Granger didn’t trust herself to handle alone, and a dragon was certainly one of them. With an admittedly slightly perturbed urgency in her voice, Hermione sent for help.

A few minutes later, Charlie Weasley appeared with a particularly loud sound signalling his Apparition. The undergrowth of the forest parted, revealing the concerned wizard in all his glory. 

“Hermione!” He rushed forward, but rather than enveloping her in a hug as a greeting, he lifted her arms. “Are you injured?” 

“No. Charlie, I called for you-” she started, but he spun her around, checking her from head to toe. 

“Are you sick? Any potions mishap?” 

“No, but—” she tried again, only to be interrupted for a second time. 

“You almost gave me a heart attack! Your otter sounded like you were dying!” 

Damn those Weasleys and their ability to  _ listen _ . “Obviously, I am not dying.” 

“Then why did you call me?” 

With a hand gesture that felt only a little pathetic, Hermione pointed out the dragon to Charlie, who, suddenly much calmer, let her go and took a few steps towards the reptile. 

And that was when Hermione discovered he was wearing a kilt.  _ Shite.  _

For some time now, she had been too aware that he was making an effort to honour the family’s traditions. After all, his maternal grandmother was a McSomething by blood. And ever since Hermione had first seen him in his kilt at Percy’s wedding, she wouldn’t dare complain about that look on him. He had started wearing the piece more often, and Hermione couldn’t get enough of it. 

She couldn’t rationally explain what it was about Charlie in a kilt that made her knees so weak. Was it the muscular legs that were now uncovered? Or the tattoo of a Hungarian Horntail on the back of one of them? Maybe it was the way it made him stretch his back and stand proud, like one of the Highlanders in the romantic novels her grandmother used to read? Hermione didn’t know. All she knew was that she had had a crush on Charles Gawain Weasley since she had learned to appreciate the male gender. 

A crush she had believed had vanished, like most teenage crushes did. 

When she had been a teenage girl and young woman, she’d fancied many wizards. Ron, of course. Though, that crush had developed into a relationship and consequently into an awkward catastrophe. She was only glad that they could restore their friendship. Viktor as well. He wasn’t exactly smart but had the air of a bit of a bad boy. Draco Malfoy was the real, if redeemed, bad boy she hooked up with fresh out of Hogwarts. An intense but futile affair with the blond had had her libido quaking and also a bit of her heart. 

Contrary to those experiences, the crush on Charlie had never been serious. Of course, he was attractive with his muscles and his tattoos and the blue eyes that were much more intense than any of his brothers‘. But the crush never had a chance to grow because as soon as Charlie had her blushing and stuttering incoherently, he always left for Romania and his dragons. 

However, over the course of the past year, he had been spending more time at home. He had no flat in England, so he always stayed at the Burrow, the focal point of the extended Weasley family. 

Sunday lunch? Charlie made the garlic butter at least as fantastic as Molly. Quidditch pick up games on summer evenings? Charlie was out of his shirt faster than one could say “distracting,” and he gave Harry a run for his money as a Seeker. Arthur‘s birthday? He first carried his drunk father upstairs, then Ron, before playing cards and drinking everyone else under the table (Hermione had had a hangover for three days after that). 

Charlie was charming and funny, but he also didn’t shy away from confrontation, such as when he defended Ginny and Harry‘s idea to renovate Grimmauld Place. If Molly ever wanted grandchildren from her only daughter, they needed a place of their own, Charlie had reasoned pretty loudly. It was the only time Hermione had ever heard him raise his voice in something other than his usual humorous tone, and it had turned her insides to mush. 

And now, said wizard stood before her. Or rather, behind her since he was still staring at the dragon with something akin to astonishment. 

“What happened?” Charlie asked. 

“I misinterpreted the unicorn rune, apparently.” She unnecessarily pointed at the creature. 

“That’s definitely not a unicorn,” Charlie drily remarked. “That’s a grown ass dragon!” 

Exasperated, Hermione threw her hands in the air. “There was ink on the parchment; it happens!” That exchange of words sounded weird, even to her ears. 

Charlie laughed. “You are probably the only woman I know that could summon a dragon accidentally.”

Hermione blushed at the backhanded compliment. It wasn’t as if she had intended for it to happen, though an increasingly girly voice in her head told her that this was what a great artist had once described as a ‘happy accident.’

“What were you working on that took you to the Forbidden Forest?”

“There was a reference in one of Merlin’s papers,” Hermione explained. “Very vague. It said that somewhere here was a place where the powers of the earth ran especially strong and that it was where the travel routes of the unicorns united each year on Beltane.”

“Fascinating. I wasn’t aware that Merlin knew that unicorns travelled,” Charlie answered to her words, but his eyes firmly remained on the dragon. His thirst of knowledge, so prevalent in his older brother but not in Ron or Ginny, was one of the qualities she adored in the wizard. 

“Well, it isn’t really that fascinating when you think you are making those ancient trails visible but instead summon a dragon. That isn’t even in the same class of vertebrate as a unicorn!” She lowered her gaze to the ground when she said the next words, knowing them to be true but not brave enough to fully explain herself. “I certainly brought myself into a very unflattering situation in which I thought it wise to reach out to you. It appears you’re dressed for somewhere important. You were at a formal event when I… called for you, right?” 

“Yes, I was,” Charlie said, motioning down to his kilt as proof. “It was a fundraiser to support the Ministry’s unit for the control of dragon egg-shell trafficking. Very important, but endlessly boring.”

Hermione laughed. “Then it sounds as if I did you a favour by demanding your presence.”

“Me? Absolutely,” he confirmed. “But my female company was less than thrilled when I left in such a hurry, it was like I had a Chinese Fireball chasing me.”

“Oh, I am so sorry, Charlie!” she apologised, though not truly feeling bad about her role in his departure. 

“Nah,” he smirked, “she just wanted to get under my kilt.”

Hermione could relate. 

“So, what are we doing about this reptile here?” she questioned, steering the conversation away from kilts and what was under them. Needing to dispose of a dragon hadn’t exactly been her clever plan for her evening.

Charlie shrugged. “How would I know? You summoned her.” 

“Her?” 

His lips curled into a smirk that even reached his eyes. “Yes, Hermione. There are boy dragons and girl dragons, didn’t you know?” She smacked his shoulder. “Vicious!” he hissed, rubbing the place she hit. 

The dragon puffed smoke again and emitted a rumbling sound. Hermione supposed she was laughing at them. 

“Dragon sexing isn’t part of  _ my _ job description!” she tried to defend herself.

Charlie answered with another grin and explained, “The tips of the scales would be much darker on the head if this were a male.” 

Hermione nodded, storing away the new information for later use. Then, something occurred to her, and she gasped. “What if she runs toward the school?” 

“Then you will have to explain McGonagall what happened to her first years!” 

“That’s not funny!” 

“Relax, Hermione. This species is very water-loving. Most likely, she’ll take a dip in the Black Lake until she knows what to do next.” The soft tone of Charlie’s voice soothed her nerves. “Oh, and they are herbivores.” 

Hermione closed her eyes, feeling awkward. She had achieved a perfect score on her Care of Magical Creatures N.E.W.T., and still she couldn’t stop embarrassing herself in front of the expert Charlie was. But he only chuckled. 

“Her name is Evelyn, by the way. She calls the Welsh reserve her home.” 

“Do you know her from one of your visits there?” 

“One could say that. I’ve been spending some time there recently.” He sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck, prompting Hermione to emit the universal sound that inquired more information. 

“Oh?” 

“Well, no one knows it yet, not even Mum —  _ especially _ not Mum — so I’d appreciate it if you kept it quiet for now.” She answered his unspoken question with a friendly nod, before he continued, “I’m going to transfer to Wales.” 

Impulsively, she hugged him, throwing her arms around his impressive form. “Charlie, that is great! I am so happy for you! What brought you to this decision? I mean, Molly has been pestering you to come back to Britain since I met you!” 

Charlie grinned, pensive. His hands were comfortably resting on her waist while hers were still around his shoulders. And Merlin if it didn’t feel perfect standing like that with him. 

“You said it, Hermione. I’ve been away from home for too many years. Except for holidays and birthdays, I’d only been at the Burrow during the war, and that wasn’t exactly a pleasant time for us all. And now that all of my siblings are getting married or having children, it’s starting to feel like my family is growing and I’m not there to see it.”

“I understand,” was all she answered. Really, there was nothing more to say. Because she truly understood. The aftermath of the war made some of them distance themselves from everyone, but many had the urge to be closer to their loved ones. 

That also meant she would see a lot more of Charlie, right? She couldn’t help but look forward to that, irrational as it was. 

Evelyn seemed to be getting bored of observing the humans and the forest, so she started trotting over to the nearby Black Lake. With some distance, Hermione and Charlie followed her. As the dragon tamer had predicted, Evelyn all but hopped into the water. 

The two humans in her wake watched her from the shore. Charlie, standing tall and strong, arms folded in front of his chest, kept his eyes on the dragon.

“Why did you call for me, Hermione?” he asked after a little while. 

“Because you’re an expert in dragons,” Hermione answered quickly. 

“Absolutely, but I could have been in Romania for all you knew. Hagrid is much closer; he could have handled Evelyn just fine.” 

“He goes to sleep early,” she evaded, not very smoothly. 

Charlie laughed, obviously not believing her lie. “Try again.” 

She closed her eyes, not ready to be exposed. “You were the first person that came to mind because I had already thought about you earlier today. Tonight, to be honest.” 

From the corner of her eye, she saw him straighten his back. “What?” 

“Technically, I knew you wouldn’t be in Romania tonight. Ginny told me that you were spending the weekend at the Burrow because you had some boring work function.” 

“But that’s not all, is it?” he inquired, his voice controlled if a bit curious. 

“I had hoped to see you wearing a kilt.” She threw her hands to her face, her cheeks hot against the cold skin of her palms. It was actually distracting her a bit — until her hands were covered by another, even warmer pair. 

Gently, Charlie pried her hands off of her face. “Look at me. There’s no need for hiding.” 

“Says you. I feel like a teenage girl all over again!” she brought forth, eyes still firmly closed. 

“Hermione! You’ve faced Voldemort! Clearly, you can face me.” 

“Voldemort didn’t make me blush, Charlie!” she retorted, appreciating how he could so easily alleviate her tension. He was still holding her hands in his when she gained the courage to open her eyes. 

“He clearly missed out then,” the man said with humour pouring off of every word. Then, he sobered. “You’re beautiful like this. You always are.” 

She didn’t really know what to say, but her heart rate was accelerating considerably. “Charlie, I…” 

“I’m glad you called me. Never hesitate to call me for anything.” His gaze was open and honest and so heartfelt. 

Though, she had no idea what made her say the next brazen words. 

“Not even when I need a kiss?” 

Her words sparked an excited glint in his eyes. “Especially not when you need a kiss.” 

But nothing happened. 

“Charlie!” She laughed awkwardly, a bit nervous because he didn’t react. 

Had she misinterpreted the situation? Maybe she hadn’t been forward enough? 

“Kiss me?” she tried, careful to avoid making it sound like an order. 

“Oh! Of course!” 

Hermione was still chuckling when soft and warm lips pressed against hers. And that was enough to reduce her entire world to Charlie and her. Gently, she moved her lips against his, her tongue finding his in a brief clash that had her sighing and him digging his fingers into her waist. It was sweet, tempting perfection that had Hermione craving more.

Her fingers had just begun to cradle through his thick red hair when all of a sudden, Hermione felt wet. And not the pleasant sort of wet because of human interaction. 

No, her curls were sticking to the side of her face because Evelyn had apparently become bored and had started splashing water towards Hermione and Charlie with her giant front feet. 

Still gasping due to the cold water, Hermione turned towards her. “ _ Evelyn! _ ” she chastised. 

The dragon had the nerve to look away pointedly, even though she appeared a bit caught. 

“I think she needs to be brought home now,” Charlie remarked. He, too, was soaking wet, and his shirt was clinging to his body like a second skin. The sight of him like this, smiling down to her,  _ now _ had Hermione feeling wet in a very pleasant way. 

He let go of her then, albeit reluctantly. Instantly, she missed the warmth of his hands on her. 

“You aren’t going to fly to Wales like this, are you?” She pointed at his wet clothes. 

“Concerned for my health?” he teased. 

“No, merely want you to strip off your kilt so I can see what’s underneath.” She winked at him and swore he was blushing. 

“It takes more than a dragon to get me out of my clothes. A real date for example.” He whipped out his wand and cast a Drying Charm on both of them, making her feel a lot better. 

“Are you asking me out, Charlie?” She couldn’t believe her luck. 

“Absolutely.” Then, he added, “I am not kissing a witch and taking off into the night just like that.”

“I didn’t expect you to. Are you free tomorrow?”

“No, I’m taking a very smart woman out for dinner,” he said with a grin, and Hermione smacked him. 

Just barely, Hermione saw Evelyn lifting her front legs again. Charlie must have seen this, too, for he said, “I think that’s my signal to say goodbye.” 

Evelyn lowered her leg, but one could see she was getting impatient. 

“See you tomorrow.” Swiftly, Charlie leaned down and pressed the softest kiss on Hermione’s lips. 

She stared after him, smiling, as he beckoned the dragon to come and mounted her expertly. He gave Hermione one final wave before Evelyn spread her impressive wings and took off into the almost dark evening sky.

Hermione had no idea how long she remained there, a silly grin on her face, until she snapped herself back to reality. Then, she decided that with the giddiness she felt, she probably shouldn’t try and return to the work on the ancient runes.

After all, she already had summoned one dragon tonight, and she wouldn’t want to challenge the fates now. For she didn’t intend to let the dragon tamer she had called go. 


End file.
